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Chapter. . .Uh. . . *Stops to count on her fingers* Six! Yeah, that's right, six!

Before the ill-fated race across the lake, though, there were classes. Kokiri found herself the next day, before the students were finished with breakfast, going over notes sent by owl from Professor Sprout. "I don't understand this business about points for houses at all. I'd better just take notes on what happens and let Miss Sprout make sense of it when she returns." "What's your first class? Anything interesting?" Okino asked.

"I'm supposed to start the twelve-year-olds cultivating mandragora. This place may be harder to adjust to than I thought."

"That's a pretty dangerous plant, isn't it?" "Of course! That's why my mother taught me about it when I was six! Why do they put it off so long?" "Then they'll really benefit from your experience."

"I hope so. But, speaking of dangerous plants, there's something I have to do before class. Promise me you won't laugh."

"Laugh at what?" "A note from the headmaster says I'm to tend to a tree that got hit by an automobile." "Here at the school?!"

"Near the lake. Apparently, when the auto attacked the willow, the willow attacked the auto."

Okino squeezed his lips together, but couldn't keep it in. Laughter exploded out of him. "I'm sorry, dear, but that's a new one on me!" Kokiri grabbed her notes off of the table and left. She tried to get to the greenhouses in plenty of time before the first class, but Gilderoy Lockhart spotted her and tagged along, insisting on trying to tell her how to patch up the Whomping Willow. Kokiri hadn't dealt with this species before, but she was able to calm it enough to patch it as best she could. She ignored Lockhart's advice, since it was clear he hadn't the faintest notion about plants. Still, he wasn't there to teach Herbology; she was.

Her first morning was spent with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff second year students. Most of the students seemed to know what they were doing and did what she told them to do. The one student that stuck in her mind, though, she asked to stay after class. "Excuse me," Hermione asked, "but I really would like to wash up after all that potting, and there isn't much time."

"Of course; I should have realized. However, will you have time to come to my office, perhaps before supper tonight?" Hermione nodded. Concern must have been written on her face, because Kokiri smiled. "Don't worry, my child, you've done nothing wrong. But there is something I feel that we really must discuss. Will you come?" "Yes, Madame."

Things were very different that afternoon, when the other second-years showed up to transplant the remaining mandrake seedlings. Just as the students were about to start work on the plants-

"Everybody stop!" At first nobody knew why Madame Kokiri had shouted at them, but she seemed on the verge of losing her temper. Slowly, deliberately, she walked to the back row, where Draco Malfoy was trying to chat up Pansy Parkinson, a skinny and shrewish-looking Slytherin. Malfoy had put the earmuffs only over one ear, to hear Pansy and (presumably) himself.

She stopped in front of Malfoy. "What is your name?" she asked in a cold and even voice. Draco-who had already had an earful about Kokiri from his father-tried to stare her down, but he decided after a few seconds that he'd better answer. "Draco Malfoy. My father."

"This isn't about your father, whoever he may be," Kokiri cut him off. "Perhaps you think these ear protectors are some silly school rule, which you can disobey if you wish. Maybe you have no respect for rules at all." She was beginning to sound uncannily like Professor Snape taking a dig at Harry Potter-a comparison which was not lost on the Ravenclaws, as they struggled to hide their grins. "But you are here to learn the rules of magic and of nature. Perhaps you wish to knock yourself unconscious with your own mandragora. But you will not do it in my class."

Grudgingly, Malfoy put on the earmuffs. Kokiri walked back to the other end of the greenhouse, putting on her own earmuffs as she walked. At her signal, they began transferring the mandrake from one pot to another. That afternoon, Hermione stopped by the office that Kokiri and Okino were sharing, a room that had been an empty classroom in the castle, but nobody was there. On a hunch, she went back to the greenhouses. Kokiri was still there, pruning a plant that resembled a peacock's tail.

Hermione tapped timidly on the door. Kokiri turned with a start. "I'm sorry, should we be at the office now? It's just that there are so many wonderful things here. I've heard about some of these plants, but never thought I'd see them."

She pointed to a stool near the door. Hermione sat down, and Kokiri pulled up another stool next to her. "Your Professor Sprout only mentioned a few of the students by name in her notes, but you're one of them, Miss Granger. She says you're a very hard worker, and as a result you have the best marks in your class."

Hermione couldn't have said exactly what, but there was something about Kokiri. Something-motherly. Like her own mother and Mrs. Weasley, but also different. She felt at once comfortable talking to her, and also puzzled that she could talk to a teacher like this. "Well, the fact is, I feel that I have to work very hard. My family isn't magical, you see. When the letter came telling me about Hogwarts, we all thought it was a joke at first." "Do your parents still.?"

"Oh no! They've gotten used to the idea of me becoming a witch now. I just don't know where it comes from."

"You may say you're family's not magical," Kokiri smiled, "but I'm sure that, if you search, you'll find one of your ancestors was magical. Your talent had to come from somewhere."

"But that's just it. I don't really think I have talent; not like everyone else here. I just read the books and follow the instructions."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. If magic came out of books, anyone who can read could be a witch. You're very quick with memorizing, and your answers are always right. But that's the magic that lives in your head. You need to pay more attention to the magic in your heart. That's what makes you a witch."

Hermione was really confused. She had an innate, unshakable respect for teachers and would seldom think of contradicting one. But she couldn't really see what Madame Kokiri was driving at. "I'm sorry, Madame, but I'm not sure I know what that means."

"Then don't worry too much about it. It's like your magical ancestor. It's there, even if you don't know about it yet. As for that, ask your parents about your family history when you get a chance. They may know something that will give you a clue."

Hermione made a mental note to write to her parents and ask about any odd relatives. As she turned to go into supper, though, she stopped at the greenhouse door. "Madame," she said a bit timidly, "do you think we could talk some more about this tomorrow? If you're not too busy, I mean." Kokiri beamed. "It would be my pleasure."

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